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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328752">Script Writing ft. Citron</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChetRoi/pseuds/ChetRoi'>ChetRoi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A3! (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling, M/M, falling asleep together, writer’s block</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:26:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChetRoi/pseuds/ChetRoi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Got writer’s block? It’s okay. Citron’s here to save the day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Citron/Minagi Tsuzuru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Script Writing ft. Citron</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I didn’t know what to name the fic but that’s ok... anyways the second of my Citron ships cause he deserves the world</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was 2:34 am. Tsuzuru was tired. Well, Tsuzuru </span>
  <em>
    <span>should’ve</span>
  </em>
  <span> been tired, but he knew that the moment he even thought of whether or not he was tired, he would end up succumbing to it. He couldn’t afford that right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tick. Tick. Tick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of the clock seemed to be cruelly mocking him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tick. Tick. Tick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why was the sound so loud?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru turned from his computer screen to glare at the clock. However, all that did was remind him that he was on a time-crunch and that the next play was supposed to be coming soon. Silently swearing, he tore his attention away from the infernal clock and back onto his blank document.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru’s brain was coursing with ideas, with potential interactions, with everything essential to make a play. Yet, when Tsuzuru tried to document anything down, his mind suddenly went blank. The ideas were still there, but the words necessary to bring them to life were as fantastical as the plays that he wrote for Spring Troupe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Tsuzuru forced his hands to go on the keyboard. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Type something. Anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Spring Troupe’s Ninth Play: Beauty and the Beast</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru nodded to himself. Good, good. He at least knew what theme he was doing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Main Cast:</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Belle</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Beast</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Gaston</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lefou </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lumière</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Maurice</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Supporting Cast:</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Cogsworth</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Mrs. Potts</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Chip</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Featherduster</b>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, Tsuzuru had his cast. Time to bring the cast to life with dialogue and action. It shouldn’t be that bad, right? After all, Tsuzuru watched the Disnee animated and live version. He read the original book by Villeineuve. He read variants of it. He watched the musical, listened to the opera.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru turned back to his document, but nothing appeared in Tsuzuru’s brain. All of the previously accumulated knowledge seemed to have been replaced with that cute cat video that Misumi showed him early. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tick. Tick. Tick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru groaned, freezing when Masumi tossed in his bed. However, his roommate had always been a deep sleeper, so a small thing like a groan wouldn’t have woken him up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tick. Tick. Tick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay. That’s it. Tsuzuru got up from his chair and silently pushed it in. He stretched for a bit, before grabbing his empty coffee mug and heading out of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sky was clear, the moon a small crescent in the sky. It was also very chilly, a cold breeze suddenly drifting through as if it was reaffirming that fact. However, it also caused Tsuzuru to remember that he forgot to bring a jacket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru knew that he should’ve just gone back to get a jacket. After all, his room wasn’t even that far away. However, his brain-which somehow turned on again- told him that he should just make a break for the kitchen since that wasn’t too far away either. Well, if Tsuzuru wasn’t going to listen to his brain, what would he listen to?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Tsuzuru walked more quickly than usual to the kitchen, he heard curses and shooting sounds coming from room 103. Normal. However, he then heard things that he wished he could unhear. Also normal, but god. There were kids here. He heard sewing machines revving in room 201. Not normal. Tsuzuru wondered what Yuki was making considering that the play hasn’t even been revealed yet. Room 104 was filled with heated whispers. Sorta normal. Banri and Juza argued all the time, but Tsuzuru was surprised that they were both currently awake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of the activity that he heard stimulated Tsuzuru’s brain. This was probably what it was like in the Beast’s castle too. With such a colorful cast of characters, the castle should be as bustling as Mankai despite the hour. Tsuzuru smiled softly. He was glad that Mankai helped him, even with small things like that. Okay, Tsuzuru has the energy and the atmosphere of the play down now. That should make the dialogue and action easier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still thinking about the play, Tsuzuru failed to notice that somehow the lights in the kitchen were on. As he stepped into the room, still deep in thought, he didn't notice the fond look from a man behind the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How is your writing going?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru immediately snapped out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s… going. Maybe.” Tsuzuru rubbed his head sheepishly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron nodded understandingly. “Ah. Writer’s brick?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Writer’s block, yes.” Tsuzuru corrected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What seems to be the problem? No ideas? Too tired?” Citron gently grabbed the coffee mug out of Tsuzuru’s hand and started to make coffee. Tsuzuru didn’t seem to notice it as he instead chose to focus on Citron’s question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s neither of those. It’s more like I know what to write, I just don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> to write it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like you do not know the words or?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru sighed, pulling a chair to the counter and sitting down. “Kind of.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kind of?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, kind of.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru paused to think. How could he explain this…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know that feeling when you have a lot of ideas that run around so quickly that they’re hard to catch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s kinda like that. I have a lot of ideas, but I just can’t put it into words. Like…” Tsuzuru sighed again. “Like, it’s all there. It’s just that the words necessary for me to make it physical disappear from my grasps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, like the pet tigers in Zahra when they get loose and refuse to come out of hiding despite us waving their food everywhere?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru paused for a split second. “Yeah. Something like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron poured some freshly made coffee into the previously empty mug and pushed it towards Tsuzuru, who accepted it gratefully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Citron.” Tsuzuru took a sip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron pulled a chair up next to Tsuzuru and sat down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know how we attracted those tigers?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru took another sip. “How?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we didn’t just use food. We had to draw power from other things too. Toys, music, their favorite people. You can’t just stick to one thing in trying to attract them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru suddenly got reminded of how the late night sounds of Mankai inspired him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron placed his chin in the palm of his hand, looking up at Tsuzuru with a small smile. Tsuzuru ignored the way that his heart started beating way too quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you need help with? I will try to help you attract these tigers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I’m just struggling to think of dialogue and actions to write. I’ve spent so much time researching all these different Beauty and the Beast things, but I just can’t seem to come up with anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing at all?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru hesitated. “Well… it’s not nothing. It’s just nothing that feels right to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh? How do you know when a play feels right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru shrugged. “I don’t know, I just do. It’s like… a balance between staying faithful to myself and to its inspirations.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron nodded. “Then what are you struggling to get right here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I think it’s just writer’s block.” Tsuzuru shook his head, almost as if he was trying to wake himself up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, why are you up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t sleep. I drink too much tea today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drank. And yeah, I saw. You and Homare really went wild with that tea party. I’m surprised that he’s able to sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tea doesn’t seem to affect him. He is like some superhero.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, if coffee stopped affecting me, I’d be dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru took another sip of his coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, it is good then. I would not like you dead.” Citron’s voice was suddenly a lot quieter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru felt his face getting warm. He mentally slapped himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Come on Tsuzuru. This is a friendly thing to say. Friends don’t have friends to die.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, I don’t want to die either.” Tsuzuru ended up saying. Nailed it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An awkward silence filled the room as Tsuzuru debated about whether or not he should just avoid Citron for a few weeks. Yeah, that sounds good. Tsuzuru was already tired with his brothers, jobs, school and Mankai. He didn’t need unnecessary romantic feelings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru got up and tightly smiled. “Thanks for the coffee Citron. I really appreciate our talk, but I must get back to writing the script.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron gazed up at Tsuzuru with a blank expression before a smile crept up on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You had trouble with writing that script? No?” Citron’s voice had that tone in it that pretty screamed that he had trouble brewing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it’s fine. My brain’s in a better place now so maybe I’ll actually end up writing something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron stood up and leaned in close to Tsuzuru. Tsuzuru could feel his face burning. Shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since we both can’t sleep, what if I help you come up with ideas? You’ve never written these with anyone next to you before, right? This can be a new experience.” Citron whispered, his breath tickling Tsuzuru’s ear. Shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh?  It’s okay. I work better alone…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on Tsuzuru, you won’t even know I’m here. I’ll be as silent as a mouse. The walls have ears, the doors have eyes, the shadows have Citron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you trying to scare me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron held up both of his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. What I am just trying to say is that I want to help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if I don’t need help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron was quiet for a bit before he looked at Tsuzuru straight in the eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I would just like to spend time with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is platonic. This is platonic. This is platonic.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tsuzuru chanted to himself, but his face was bright red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron extended his hand towards Tsuzuru. “What do you say? You can bring your laptop to the lounge and we shall sit there together. If you need help, I can give my thoughts. If you don’t need help, I will sit there silently and bake in your presence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru furrowed his eyebrows. “Bake?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron whipped out his phone, holding out one finger. He typed something on it before looking back up. “Bask. I will bask in your presence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru knew that he shouldn’t agree. He knew that if he agreed, he’d actually develop feelings for Citron and then it would bother him to no end. However, looking at Citron and his hopeful face, Tsuzuru could feel logic getting flushed down the toilet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure. Give me a minute. I gotta go back and get my laptop and power cord.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru placed his coffee mug down and was about to head out before he felt Citron’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. He looked down to see Citron’s coat covered arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Tsuzuru summoned all of his acting skills into keeping his voice steady.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I noticed that you did not have a jacket. It is chilly outside and I do not want you to be cold, so I will escort you to your room. It may still be chilly but it will be less so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron smiled happily at Tsuzuru.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, let us go! The night is still young!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru prayed that neither of the demons in room 103 would go out for a snack. Tsuzuru prayed that Masumi wouldn’t suddenly wake up and see this. Tsuzuru prayed that he wouldn’t break down in a gay panic half way through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, everything went smoothly as Tsuzuru threw on a jacket, grabbed his laptop and power cord, and walked back to the lounge. Citron’s face slightly fell when he saw Tsuzuru throw on the jacket. Tsuzuru chose to ignore it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As promised, Citron was quiet the entire night, only speaking when Tsuzuru asked for advice. He immediately got up to refill Tsuzuru’s coffee mug when he noticed that it was empty. Tsuzuru didn’t want to admit it but when Citron did leave to refill the mug, Tsuzuru missed his presence. When Citron came back, Tsuzuru always felt lighter, happier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsuzuru cursed at himself. Time to add another thing to make him even more tired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Tsuzuru just so happened to fall asleep. Maybe, it was because of how tired he was from working two shifts and then going straight to writing the script. Maybe, it was because of Citron’s comforting presence that lulled him to sleep. Maybe, Tsuzuru just wanted to sleep. Who knows? Either way, the following morning proved to be quite a surprise for the rest of Mankai.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The following morning, Kazunari stumbled out to the kitchen to get coffee for class and he paused when he saw the sight. There was Tsuzuru and Citron, asleep on the couch together. They were both sitting up, but their heads were leaning on each other. Citron’s arms were wrapped around Tsuzuru’s waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not long after, the Mankai group chat got sent a picture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Citron had to keep Tsuzuru from strangling Kazunari when the scriptwriter finally woke up. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on @gachakitakoreJK on twitter if u want</p></blockquote></div></div>
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